"The blood came from the veins of others; he was carried away alive, and almost unhurt.

He is a captive,--a captive like yourself.

And why?
Shall I remind my fair Edith how much of her hostility and scorn I owed to her hot and foolish kinsman?
how he persuaded her the love she so naturally bore so near a relative was reason enough to reject the affection of a suitor?
how impossible she should listen to the dictates of her own heart, or the calls of her interest, while misled by a counsellor so indiscreet, and yet so trusted?
Before that unlucky young man stepped between me and my love, Edith Forrester could listen,--ay, and could smile.

Nay, deny it if you will; but hearken.

Your cousin is safe; rely upon that; but, rely, also, he will never again see the home of his birth, or the kinswoman whose fortunes he has so opposed, until she is the wife of the man he misjudges and hates.